A Rose By Any Other Name
by carmen-loves
Summary: "Magic is deception, but deception designed to delight, to entertain, to inspire." Amber Rose, a girl from Staten Island, is an up and coming magician. When she receives a Tarot card after one afternoon in the city, she is thrown into a magician's whirlwind of tricks and illusions.
1. Prologue

**Authors Note:** Haii(: So uhm, I am literally obsessed with this movie and I just had to do this. Please read, review, rate etc. I'll give you a cookie and a horseman ;)

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters of Now You See Me. *sigh*

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Prologue

The sound of the bustling crowd was deafening, drawing in more strangers every moment. And I, being the performer that I am, basked in the attention. I was surrounded by a collection of people, all different, but all the same. Mothers, who had been taking their extroverted kids out to the park to expel leftover energy before locking them up in the confinement of their compacted apartments. Lovers, who had been enjoying a romantic picnic, brought over to the accumulation of people by the growing noise having interrupted their date. And casual onlookers, who had been out on an afternoon stroll, had joined in, an itching need to know what the fuss was all about.

I stood on a park bench facing my audience. In my hands was a deck of blue playing cards, rough around the edges, showing signs of use. I wasn't usually one for card tricks, but they brought in a crowd, for which I wasn't complaining. After several silly games of "pick any card" and filler tricks that consisted of making a card vanish and reappear, I decided it was time for my finale. I analyzed the on looking spectators, searching for my victim. Once I secured in my mind who I wanted, I raised a question to the crowd. "Who would like to help me with my final performance?" The throng of people squealed and cheered, a choir of "me, me, me's" forced at me. "Hmm," I say, pretending to scan the audience. "How about…you" I say, letting my pointer finger rest in the direction of the one I'd previously selected.

A woman with jet black hair and strong facial features cheered and made her way up to where I stood upon the bench. Up close, she wasn't beautiful, with penciled in eyebrows and face cemented in a pile of make up, but she wasn't ugly either. I was almost positive, that behind the spidery lashes and candy apple lips, she was actually a pretty girl. She stood about half a foot taller than I, around 5'8 and wore dark jeans and a low cut red blouse.

I leaned toward her asking for her name, in which she replied "Sheridan." Her perfume was intoxicating, but smiled despite it, turning to the crowd.

"Ladies and gentleman, I'd like to present to you my assistant, Sheridan." As cliché as that line is, the crowd ate every word of it up.. Sheridan smiled, doing a slight bow to the audience. "Pick any card you choose," I said, motioning toward the fanned deck I held in my hands. Sheridan smirked, running manicured fingers along the cards, finally settling on one in the middle. I asked her to show it to the crowd, who inched closer.

I reached into my back pocket, pulling out a black sharpie. "Would you mind signing the card for me please?" She did as I asked, and presented it so that everyone could see but me. She then placed it back in the deck and I began shuffling the cards.

"So are you from Manhattan?" I asked, starting meaningless conversation. I, as well as everyone near, learned that Sheridan is 25, just graduated from NYU, and was about to fly to Chicago to visit family. I passed her the cards to continue shuffling. This was all part of the act.

Sheridan is one of those girls who enjoyed the spotlight, and could talk about herself for days. This, luckily for me, made her oblivious to all that I had plan. She was the type to keep her wallet in her back pocket, easy pickings for me. In what seemed less than two seconds, the deed was done, a fresh fifty dollar bill in my pocket.

I pulled out the box for the cards from my black blackpack that had been thrown underneath the bench, and resealed the cards in them. Showing it to her and the audience, that the cards were in fact sealed shut. I asked her to place the deck in her back pocket, confirming that the box was closed one last time. I then reached in to her pocket and skillfully grabbed the card I knew would be there and presented it to the crowd, then to Sheridan. A gasp was followed by an uproar of cheering as everyone looked upon the card in my hand. It was indeed the 6 of diamonds, scribbled with Sheridan's name in black ink over top. The woman stood with a awestruck expression on her face as she gazed at the card in my hand.

"May I have my deck of cards back please?" She nodded, pulling the pack from her back pocket, which remained unopened. I thanked her and pocketed it "Thank you all" I smiled to the crowd. I picked up my backpack and held Sheridan's card high for everyone to see. "Goodnight" The card erupted in flames, causing the witnesses to scream in delight.

I hopped off my podium, and made my way through the assemblage, smiling at the inquiring minds. "Miss, how did you do that?" A little boy with curly red hair and freckles to match asked. I bent down to him and ruffled his hair. "Magic" I answered. The boy yelped and hollered a joyous sound, running back to his mother, relaying what I'd told him.

"That's nice dear," she said to the child, giving me a disapproving look. My only response was to raise my shoulders and wink, causing her to audibly "hmph" at me. It only made me smile more. _People don't want to accept the idea of magic_, I thought. _Such a pity._

I made my way out of the park and to the Whitehall Terminal and got on. I caught the ferry to Staten Island in just enough time. As the ferry was departing, I turned to view the city, my heart aching more with every foot coming between me and it. It was like I was leaving a part of me in the city, a part I would have to recollect later when I decided to adventure back out. I rested my head on the railing of the boat, gazing out into the dark water.

By the time I reached the St. George Terminal, night had fallen. The air grew brisk and I was thankful I'd decided to wear a jacket. I stopped to get something to eat, Subway, seemingly the best option.

It had been too crowded to eat there, so I took the sandwich I'd paid for with my newly acquired cash and stuffed it into my backpack.

The walk home had been short, and soon I was faced with rows of stacked apartments that lined the streets. I found mine and made my way inside, hoping for what I knew to lye ahead, would disappear.

A horse laughter followed by wooden chairs squeaking against tile filled the room. In the small dining room around our small table sat my dad and two of his friends, each with a can of bud light in their hands. In front of them was a poor excuse for a poker game, chips scattered across the table and floor.

"About time you showed up" my dad barked at me, causing his drunken friends to snicker.

"Sorry, I was out so late, I was with friends," I lied. His nostrils flared, as he stood up, causing a bone chilling screech of his chair.

"Were you really?" Dad smirked, making his way toward me.

"Yes" I replied, not looking him directly in the eye.

He finally reached me, the smell of alcohol radiating off him. His friends were laughing behind him at the scene that was about to unfold.

"Don't lie to me Amber Rose, you were doing that magic stuff again, weren't you?" He huffed. He slurred my name like it was poison in his mouth. His blond hair was matted to his head with sweat, causing it to stick up every which way. His white shirt was turning yellow and had beer stains on it. His blue eyes were lit up in fury.

When I didn't answer him, he knew he'd been right. "So what did you get today, huh? A nice watch for Daddy, or maybe a diamond ring? Nothing? You're absolutely useless." A tear started to form in my eye, and I prayed it wouldn't fall. Much to my dismay, it rolled down my cheek like a glistening diamond.

"Stop crying, dammit!" As he said this, more tears followed the first. You're such a pain in my ass! No wonder you got kicked out of college. You were such a pain in the ass they didn't want you either!" When he said this, I tried to make a run for my room, just down the hall. I only made it a few steps before my dad grabbed my arm, pulling me back around.

"Hey! I was talking to you." His fingers gripped around my forearm, squeezing tightly. As I struggled to gain control, the two men at the table were howling with laughter. I swung out my free arm, managing to scratch my dad slightly on the arm.

"You bitch!" he hollered, flinging me to the ground. I lay there, cradling my injured arm. Done with me, my dad spit in my direction, then returned to his unattended game of poker.

I scrambled up sprinting to my room, shutting my door silently as to not disturb the men outside. The room was small, with pale pink walls I'd had since I was seven, and a twin sized bed. A moderate size dresser and closet lined the walls, as well as posters and other knick knacks I'd accumulated over the years. Connecting to the room was a standard bathroom, painted a similar pink color. It was small, yet enough for me.

I peeled off my jacket that was stuck to me with sweat and discarded it. I made my way to the bathroom, illuminated by florescent lights. In the mirror, I saw my worn out reflection, and cringed. My golden hair flowed down to my waist in a sea of knots and tangles. See-through grey eyes were framed by long eyelashes, darkened by the remains of tears. The usual dimples that engraved themselves on my cheeks at even the hint of a smile were absent. My clothes were wrinkled and disheveled. The dark jeans that I wore sat low on my hips, bunching up at the ankles were they met worn out black combat boots. My black v neck was wrinkled and a long sleeved red and black plaid flannel was creased with dirt and sweat.

I shook off the flannel, exposing my injured forearm. Already the red marks that outlined fingers were turning purple. I sighed, wiped my tears and reentered my room.

My bag lay sprawled on the floor, the unopened Subway bag poking out. I'd lost my appetite, but picked up the bag anyway, planning on putting it in the fridge. While shuffling through the plastic bag, my hand came across a card. I pulled it out, looking upon the foreign object. I finally realized it was a Tarot card.

On it was printed the Sun, overlooking a child riding a white horse. In one hand he held a crimson flag, and was surrounded by sunflowers. Confused, I turned the card over to reveal the symbol of an eye.

On it in scripted letters, was written:

March 29

4:44 pm

45 East Evan St.

NY, NY

"Oh My God."


	2. A White Rose

**Authors Note: **Ohmygosh, you guys are freaking incredible. It's been less than a day and already the views are incredible! Thank you all so much for following, favoriteing, and reviewing. It means soo much to me! c:

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Now You See Me (or the dialogue that is included in the movie)

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The black watch on my wrist read 4:32, plenty of time to find the apartment. It had been a week since I'd first received the Tarot card with encrypted lettering. Now, the card was stuffed in my back pocket, burning a hole in my jeans.

I pulled it out, careful not to bend the edges and read it again. There was no need, the symbol of the eye and clear directions were permanently etched into my brain.  
_March 29 4:44pm East Evans St NY, NY_

I pocketed the card and found the correct apartment complex. I glanced around me, the street crawling with people hustling to their destinations wasting no time. No one paid me any attention, for which I was grateful. If this ended up being a complete joke, no one would be around to witness my foolishness.

The weather was fair, with a slight overcast, and the wind caressed my silky hair. I wore a green military jacket, dark jeans, boots and a grey form fitting t shirt. A maroon beanie covered the top part of my head, intensifying my gold locks which was braided messily into a side fishtail.

I took one last look to the outside world and approached a dark wooden door. I turned the rusted knob to expose a short hallway, lit only by half broken lamps decorated in a layer dust. The walls had chipping paint and were dotted with substances I didn't want to identify. I followed the staircase that lined the wall, careful not to touch anything. The stairs squeaked under unwanted weight, but held sturdy. Above me, I detected voices; one was a woman, melodious and strong, the other was a man's, rough and held a tinge of annoyance. I followed the sounds of their bickering, trying not to eavesdrop, but to no prevail.

"I think you know exactly what I've been up to Danny, I saw all of your anonymous postings on my website" The woman was saying. "A website?" The man questioned, trying to cover up his tracks. "That's good. Good for you, get the word out."

I chuckled slightly at his idiocy. Obviously the two had a history with each other, and had left off on the wrong foot.

"Oh" I heard them say in unison as I rounded the last corner. Before me stood an average height man with curly brown hair and an unshaven face to match. He had a scrawny frame, and I pieced together he was the man I'd heard talking before. He held an air of arrogant confidence by the way he stood, arm secured around his satchel, which made him seem bigger than he actually was. He was clothed in dark colored trousers, a striped black shirt and a black blazer.

The woman from before stood to his left, making an entrance for me. Her fiery hair glistened in the sun pouring in from the window. She wore a tan blazer with a floral scarf, brown suit pants and heels. Her porcelain skin was detailed with delicate features, adding to her beauty. She was absolutely stunning. She held a Starbucks cup in a leather gloved hand, the name "Henley" scrawled in black ink in graceful handwriting.

"O-kay," stated a large man in a bowler hat who had been leaning against the door at the end of the hall, drawing out the "o". "So apparently none of us were the only one chosen, so let me be the first willing to kick my ego to the curb."

I chuckled at his bluntness as the curly haired man advanced forward. "Excuse me-"

"-The doors locked" interrupted the man in the bowler hat. He had wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, hinting that he was constantly smiling.

The curly haired man gave him a smug look. He readjusted his satchel on his shoulder, replying with "Is it? I'll check."

The bowler hat man shrugged and turned to Henley, letting the curly haired man examine the door. "You are, no don't tell me, Helen, no no, Henley" The woman in question smiled, only to have it replaced with a glare towards the man at the door. "It's on your coffee cup," he had muttered.

The bowler hat man just smiled, "Thanks for keeping me honest. That wasn't mentalism by the way, just an observation. Second observation, you are beautiful."

"Thank you" Henley replied. The curly haired man came back to wear we stood, a look of pure distaste masked on his face. "That's very nice, very polished. J. Daniel Atlas, pleased to meet you." He extended out his hand, expectant. The bowler hat man extended his out in return, but turned his finger up the last second, causing me and Henley to giggle.

Daniel turned around, noticing me for the first time. He rolled his eyes when he saw me, clearly stating he couldn't be bothered and turned back to the bowler hat man. "I just want to say, I know who you are and I'm not into your mentalism games." He continued muttering nonsense while the other man hushed him.

"Shh, I'm sensing you are a control freak."

Henley erupted in laughter, me following pursuit. I liked the bowler hat man, he had a boisterous personality that rolled off him in waves, which clearly annoyed Daniel.

The three continued to banter back and forth, defending them selves, while I stood watch, smiling widely. It mostly ended up Henley and Daniel arguing back and forth, with the other man interjecting here and there, while I watched along the sidelines, enjoying the show.

I was so absorbed in the older group's feud, that I became unaware of a new presence standing next to me. When I felt leather brush across my arm, I jumped slightly, causing the stranger to laugh a joyous sound. I turned and let my gaze fall upon the source. A young man with strong cheekbones and messy hair stood beside me. He was dressed in dark leather and boots and stood nearly a head taller than me. His dark eyes were framed by long lashes, providing him with a youthful look. He was well built, with strong arms and chest, but looked to be about the same age as I. I'd be lying if I said I didn't find him attractive.

He flashed an amused smile at me. "Sorry if I scared you." I returned the smile, and tried my hardest not to blush. "Don't worry about it." He examined the crammed hallway, eyes resting on Daniel. He approached the older man as if he were an angel sent from heaven, a look of pure awe dancing across his face. Daniel, being the self-satisfied being that he is, soaked in the praise the young man gave him.

"I'm Jack by the way," the younger man finally concluded, extending his arm out to Daniel, who took it. The bowler hat man, who I'd over heard announce his name as Merritt, held up a Tarot card, interrupting the pageant that was unfolding before him. "Did you get one of these?"

Jack flashed a smile and pulled a Tarot card out, seemingly identical to mine, except the drawing on the front. "Death" he muttered quizzically. Henley held out hers, "The High priestess." Merritt announced his as The Hermit, and Daniel's was The Lovers.

Henley choked down laughter, muttering "Three minutes." I laughed at that, drawing the attention of the others to me. "The sun," I informed, holding up my card I had removed from my back pocket. Daniel pursed his lips. "And you are..." he trailed off.

I took that as my cue to introduce myself. "I'm Amber Rose, pleased to meet you." They each replied their own form of "hello," some more polite then others.

Jack, uncomfortable with the silence descending upon us, asked "So are we waiting on something?" Daniel shrugged. "The door's locked."

Jack's smile grew, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Oh no, nothing's ever locked." He proceeded to push his way to the door, and picked the lock with ease. Daniel's face was briefly entertained with an impressed look, but he quickly changed back to his arrogant demeanor. He pushed the door open, and we peered inside.

It was a disheveled apartment, cemented under a thick layer of dirt and grime. We explored, coming across no signs of inhabitance. It was cavernous, with many rooms and hallways. We entered a spacious room with wooden flooring, where a single white rose lie in the center. Beside it, was a folded piece of cardstock with the words "Now You Don't" printed in black ink. Intrigued, I picked the rose up, twirling it around my fingers.

"A Rose, by any other name" I recited, laughing at my own joke. I placed the stem in the vase that had been adjacent to where the rose had previously been taking up space on the floor. As I did so, water seeped through, forming a path to a design on the floor. The water accumulated in the design, filling it up. It released a puff of white smoke, causing me to jump back in surprise. I hit against something hard, and looked up to see Jack who was staring intently at the smoke continued to spill out of the floor. I quickly apologized while the room filled with the milky gas.

"Don't worry, it's just dry ice," Merritt informed. Jack and I made our way to where the others were, who were busy playing a game of "who did it". Daniel was talking a mile a minute, his sentences blurring into one. Merritt held up a finger, to silence him. "Hold on." He placed his hand to the side of his head in concentration. After a brief moment, Merritt sighed. "I got nothing."

Irritated, Daniel barked, "Well thank you for the delay." Offended by his rudeness, Merritt replied curtly, "I'm just trying to create space for wisdom."

Daniel smirked. "Okay, so you're like Buddha, if he wasn't so enlightened."

"And you're like Jesus, if he was arrogant and all his miracles were fake." Merritt argued.

I rolled my eyes at the older men. They were grown adults bickering like little kids. "Alright love birds, get a room." Henley stifled a laugh as Daniel shot me an appalled look. He apparently didn't think I would speak to him in such a way. He thought wrong.

We continued to look around the broad room, searching for any such clues that would give us an idea of what was going on. We scoured around until five projectors were activated. They all pointed toward the center of the room, forming one 3D image.

"Blueprints," Henley exhaled, as she viewed them in awe.

"They're incredible," Merritt observed.

"Who do you think did this?" Jack questioned, mesmerized by the light show before him.

"I don't know but I really want to meet them," Henley answered him, eyes never leaving the display.

"It's a show," I noticed, absorbing the information presented like a sponge.

All of us were hypnotized by the fanfare before us. Daniel cleared his throat, breaking our concentration. He grinned, and we all exchanged a knowing

look that conveyed an unspoken message, the secret that connected us.

_Show Time._

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I'm sorry this is such a crappy chapter, it was more to just fill up space. Anyways, please leave me a review to read(: xx


	3. On Pointe

**Author's Note: **Holy cupcakes! You people are flipping incredible. 500+ views in less than a week. I seriously love you. I took note of the formatting and fixed it on the previous chapters! I love reading y'alls comments. Like it seriously makes my day 3 I'm so greatful for all your comments, thank you. Here's a bit of a longer chapter for you, i hope it's not confusing. Please review and give me feedback and I'll give you a horseman and a cookie :) xx

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Now You See Me. If i did, there would be shirtless scenes of Jack Wilder. Just Saying.

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Renovations had begun around the apartment, morphing the broken and run down building into a sanctuary. On further examination, the apartment consisted of four small rooms, each bare save for the broken light fixtures dangling from the ceiling. There was a small kitchen and sitting area, with large windows that looked out onto the busy street below.

The first couple of days mainly consisted of each of us trying not to step on each other's toes in what I now labeled the "jail cell." Though spacious, the apartment clearly wasn't made to house five grown adults with attitudes and personalities that take up as much space as they do. We were all still getting acquainted and trying to learn about each other, so as to assess the strengths and weaknesses of the group.

Daniel was planted on the floor of the sitting area, stacks of paper towering him. He stared intently at the words on the pages before him, a crease between his brows. Merritt, who had lucidly called declaration on one of the largest bedrooms, was busy flipping through a recent issue of Better Homes and Gardens. Daniel and Henley also had demanded the bedrooms, which had left Jack and I to face off for the last.

"Wanna thumb wrestle for it?" I'd asked jokingly. He had laughed, but shook his head. "Nah, just take it. I'm used to sleeping on couches." He had said it so casually; it made me wonder what he had been doing before we'd all been thrown together.

Henley was dancing around the apartment, tending to half finished jobs: dirty windows, broken lights, Daniel's playing cards that now lay unattended on the floor. Daniel had ordered Jack into one of the bathrooms, and I into the kitchen, to tidy up any imperfections.

I was busy scrubbing away on the countertops when Jack sauntered out of the bathroom, a look of relief on his face. His tousled brown hair pieced together with sweat, showing signs of hard work. Jack's dark grey henley was pushed up past his elbows, where canary yellow latex gloves covered his forearms. He threw his hands in the air. "The black hole is no longer existent. You're welcome for my contribution to society."

I suppressed a laugh, and returned my focus to the countertop. I realized I had been scrubbing the same spot and quickly moved on.

Daniel looked up from his files. "Well don't just stand there. Find something to do." Jack nodded and glanced at me with my nose close to the counter, scrubbing away. He came my way, and sat in a chair that faced me. He propped his boots up on a small table adjacent to the kitchen and crossed his ankles.

A loud _pop_ made me look up from my work. Jack had removed one of his rubber gloves and was now removing the other, one finger at a time. _Pop._

I rolled my eyes at his foolishness, and continued to clean. Once I had finished, I looked up to see that my groupie had fallen asleep, his head slung behind the back of the chair and arms crossed over his chest.

Henley wandered into the kitchen, admiring my work. "It looks brand new!" she praised. I thanked her as she ran her manicured fingers over the countertops. "We had counters just like this at my dad's house growing up," she commented, remising in her memories of childhood. My heart clenched as she said "dad".

I hadn't seen him since I'd first come to the apartment, and I worried about him. Was he getting into trouble? Drinking, or possibly getting into fights? Horrible images danced through my mind causing me not to hear Henley. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that please?" I asked her.

"He can sleep just about anywhere can't he?" Henley joked, motioning toward Jack. His chest had a steady rise and fall with his breathing and he looked peaceful. I nodded. Henley began to walk away, but I wiped my hands nervously on my jeans and called out to her. "Henley?"

The woman in question turned on her heels, fiery hair whipping around her. "I need to run an errand later, if that's all right. I won't be gone long," I said slowly, trying not to let my voice shake with nervousness. For a moment, I thought she'd say no, but then she flashed a smile. "Of course, just be careful."

Henley had a quality about her that made you like her. She was authoritative, but not in such a way that you couldn't have a casual conversation with her.

Daniel took that moment to call from where he sat on the floor. "Take Jack with you, he's snoring up a storm in there." Upon hearing his name, Jack's eyes flashed open. He looked around the room, as if he was puzzled over where he was. His gaze rested on Henley and I, and he regained focus.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked his voice deep and raspy from his nap. Henley answered, "Amber has an errand to run, and Daniel wants you to carry her bags for her." For a split second, Jack looked like he was going to object, but instead he nodded.

Now, it was my turn to object. "Really, I'm okay with going by myself. I don't want to be bothersome." I didn't want Jack to come with me, as I didn't even know what would be awaiting me at home. I gave Henley a look that clearly stated, "Don't let him come with me", but it didn't read with her.

"Don't, be silly, Jack has nothing better to do." Daniel took that moment to poke his head in the kitchen. "Besides, I am a firm believer in the buddy system for the _kids_." Being his usual supercilious self, Daniel spat the word as an insult causing me to inwardly groan, but I said nothing. Not wanting to cause a scene, I reluctantly nodded and turned to Jack. "Let's just go."

He ran over to the couch in the sitting area, grabbed his leather jacket, and slung it over his shoulder. "After you," He said, motioning towards the door. Before I could touch the handle, Daniel handed me a fifty. "Pick up some dinner on the way back." There was no sign of a question, only an order. "Fine," I muttered, as I snatched the bill and pocketed it.

"Get some Chinese, por favor," Merritt hollered from behind the closed door to his room. I rolled my eyes and left the apartment, Jack trailing behind me.

Outside the city was full of life. People of all ages were pushing past each other, car horns being played to an unheard song. "It's a good thing we decided to beat rush hour traffic" Jack commented, laughing at his own joke.

"There's always traffic in New York," I pointed out, moving out of the way of a large man who was swinging a briefcase by his side.

"I know, I used to live in Brooklyn," Jack responded, catching up to me. We stood side by side on the sidewalk, walking in synchronization, trying to avoid the on coming herd of people.

"Really?" I asked, looking up at him, readjusting my jacket. "I lived in Staten Island." Jack laughed. "See, we're practically family." I giggled and continued walking.

"Is that where we're going?" I nodded, pushing down the rising nerves of bringing Jack with me.

We continued casual conversation until we made it to the ferry. I found my regular place by the edge of the boat and Jack followed in behind me. Jack was the type of person who had a buoyant personality and was always cracking jokes. We talked about nothing in particular, but just to pass time.

"When did you start wanting to become a magician?" I asked, looking out into the water. Jack, who was in the process of putting his jacket on smiled. "I saw Daniel in the park one day, while on my way home. He was doing tricks and asked for volunteers. I just so happened to be the luckiest man of the hour. From that moment on, I knew I wanted to be an entertainer. I wanted to leave people wondering and amazed. " I chuckled at his story, but new the value of it. He had a purpose, a reason to be a magician. Me?

"I'm a performer, and will always be. I saw a street show once, and was blown away by the skill and precision of the magicians. Everything they did was so meticulous, and done just right, that someone who wasn't used to putting on a show wouldn't see the flaws in the routine. I want to perfect it, and let no one see through the cracks. Creating illusions and making people question everything they know is quite rewarding."

We arrived at the terminal and vacated the ferry. We continued to walk, Jack following me as he came into unknown territory. The worn down path from the ferry to the apartment complex in which I used to live was engraved into my mind; I couldn't forget it even if I wanted to.

As we neared it, my heart began to race. I had no idea what was going to happen, and I sure didn't want Jack to be a witness to anything that might happen.

Jack's garrulous demeanor slowed to silence. The only sound he made was his boots against the sidewalk. We made it to the door, and I paused, causing Jack to halt in surprise. I turned to him, who looked at me with concern. "Wait here." I told him, circumscribing him to the patio. He opened his mouth to protest, but closed it and turned to the street.

I found the hide-a-key I'd always kept under the mat and let myself in. The lights were all off, showing no signs of life. I flipped them on, and viewed the damage I'd left behind. The room was clean, with organized book shelves and furniture placed in strategic spots to make the room appear cavernous. Nothing seemed to be out of place from when I'd left nearly a week before. The kitchen was tidy, a fresh liner in the trash bin, and floors mopped.

It confused me to see everything so clean. _Had dad done it_? I wondered. _Surely not_. But it left me to ponder who did. I made my way down the familiar hallway to my room. Inside, everything remained untouched and just as I had left it. A sense of serendipity engulfed me. _At least something remained the same._

A thundering crash of something falling jolted me out of my thoughts. I turned to see Jack in the doorway, a sheepish look on his face. At the floor by his feet was a pile of books that had been in a neat stack by the door.

"Jack!" I cried. "I thought I told you to wait outside!" I bent to the floor and began restacking the books. Jack knelt down to help. "Yes well, your lovely neighbor kept giving me dirty looks," he said in his defense.

I gave him a bewildered look. "Mrs. Sanchez is 74 and legally blind in one eye." Jack laughed. "Well that other eye of hers kept looking me up and down."

I chuckled and finished putting the rest of the books in order. I stepped back as Jack took in my room.

"It's very…pink," he finished. Jack found his way to my bed and sat down on the white comforter. He kicked off his boots and lay down, resting his hands behind his head.

I crossed my arms and looked at him. "You have a habit of making yourself at home, you know that?" I told him. Jack grinned, and looked over to my nightstand. On it was a picture in a silver frame.

It had been taken three years back, at my high school graduation. In it, I wore a blue cap and gown that made my large grey eyes more vibrant. My golden hair flowed to my waist in ringlets, and a set of dimples graced my cheeks. Beside me a woman who was my spitting image, except her few inches taller than I and hair that was cropped into short layers. Next to my mom, was my little brother, Aiden. His blond hair was done up in spikes thanks to half a bottle of gel and he was smiling as proudly as an eight year old could.

To my right stood my eldest brother, Austin. His arm rested around my shoulders as he towered over me. Only two years older than me, Austin was my best friend, the one I could share all my secrets to about anything Austin had left school in California to come to my graduation, though no one had told me. Having hi, there when I got my diploma was probably the best moment of the entire affair. Behind me was my father. He looked visibly younger here, and his face was marked by laugh lines. We all looked so happy.

"Is this your family?" Jack asked, holding up the frame. I nodded, but I couldn't look at the picture. He perpended me, but didn't question. Jack glanced around the room, and he smiled when his eyes rested on something on the opposite end of the room. He jumped up, grabbed his target, and regained his position on my bed. In his hands were pink pointe shoes. _Oh god._

"You're a dancer?" Jack asked, holding up the shoes. I nodded. "Yeah, well, at least I was."

"Were you any good?" Jack questioned. I smiled, remembering how much I loved to dance. "I got a scholarship to Marymount."

Jack fiddled with the shoes in his hands in understanding. "So you were really good, then." I sat down next to him on the comforter, my attention on the laces of my brown boots. "I liked to think so."

Jack played with the ribbon between his pointer finger and thumb. He looked up at me. "Why did you stop?" That was the question I prayed he wouldn't ask. It opened up to many wounds, to many memories that I didn't want to dive into again. I had them locked in a safe deep within me, where I wanted them to remain.

"Complications," I managed to say. It wasn't a complete lie, but there had been so much more to it than that.

It had been the _DAW_ showcase that my friend, Lisa, had been the choreographer for. I was cast as lead for one of the performances along side Jeremy one of the juniors that attended MMC. I had been so excited that I was able to dance with him, him being an absolutely flawless dancer and not so bad on the eyes either. He had short blond hair that was always perfectly sculpted and chocolate colored eyes that produced a sultry aura around him. He had a strong physique, and looked like a Calvin Klein model.

It had been a contemporary piece, with smooth instrumentals and vocals like fine velvet. The song had been about two people so blindsided by love that nothing else mattered, but being in each others arms. There was an undeniable chemistry between Jeremy and I and dancing with each other fueled the passion. It had soon become easy for me to let my emotions run free, as I no longer needed to get into character, but was already feeling the ecstasy that came when dancing with my dancing partner.

Jeremy and I had practiced daily, wanting to prefect the art. We were both trying to get into a prestigious company and we were made aware that many recruiters would be at the showcase.

The weekend of the showcase had been my mothers 40th birthday. She had yet to meet Jeremy, so it was planned that she, dad, Aiden, along with Jeremy and I would have a celebration dinner after the show.

Two hours before the beginning of the show, I sat in my makeup chair facing a mirror illuminated with lights that highlighted every imperfection. I was retouching my make up with an expert hand, making sure it was indeed flawless and not a bit out of place.

My phone vibrate in my hoodie's pocket. I accepted the call and held it up to my ear.

"Hi, Momma."

"Hey, Bambi," she responds, using the nickname she had given me when I was younger. "Are you excited for tonight? I'm sure it'll be beautiful."

I smiled at the mirror as I talked. "I am. The dance is beautiful, you'll love it." I reached into my make up bag and pulling out my lipstick, I began to strategically apply the cherry color to my lips.

"Oh I'm sure I will, especially seeing both you and Jeremy up there." I could practically see her winking at me and making a "mmhmm" look.

"He really is something, Momma." I said, smiling giddily. Mom laughed. "Aww, is my little Bambi in love?" I giggled. "Maybe." I reached for my water bottle that was on the make up table and unscrewed the lid with my free hand.

I heard a small voice in the background, then my mom on speaker. "Aiden wants to tell you something." To my brother, "Go ahead."

Louder than necessary, my little brother hollered, "If Jeremy ends up being a butthead, I'll beat him up for you, then we can watch movies in my room, Bambi!"

I choked on the water I had been drinking as my body erupted in laughter. "Thanks, Aiden, I can always count on you." Mom got off speaker, and returned it to her ear. "Alright, honey, I'll let you go, because I know you need to get ready. Plus, I need to go buy batteries for the camera."

I laughed and rolled my eyes. "Okay, see you tonight. Love you."

I hung up the phone and returned it to its place in my hoodie. I bent down into my bag to put away my water, and my eyes were delicately covered by two warm hands.

"I'll do anything you say, I promise, just don't hurt me!" I squeal, though I knew exactly who stood behind me.

Jeremy, who was donning the same school hoodie as I and matching sweat pants, wrapped his arms around me, picking me up from my chair. He spun me around, before setting me on my feet. "Are you nervous?" he asked.

"A little," I admitted. I didn't want to be, but the butterflies in my stomach were in a social frenzy. Jeremy kissed my right cheek. "How about now?" he asked. "Yes," I answered. He kissed the other cheek, asking the same question, to which I responded the same. He proceeded to continue the game, kissing my forehead, nose, neck and eventually the corners of my mouth.

"Are you still nervous?" he asked with a knowing look. "Not so much now," I said, looking up at him through my lashes. Jeremy flashed a smile and kissed me lightly on the lips. When we pulled away, his lips were slightly tinted from my lipstick. I laughed and motioned toward the mirror. His gaze followed mine, and he laughed. "I don't think this is my color," he said while wiping it off on a napkin that had been on the table.

"No, it's mine," I told him, still laughing. Jeremy tilted my chin up with his fingers. "Don't be nervous okay? We've done this a million times. Just think that your mom and brother are going to be able to see you dance, and are going to be blown away." I nodded, knowing he was right.

Jeremy had been wrong. They wouldn't get to see the show.

Jack flipped the pointe shoes in his hands, as if he was trying to juggle. "Well, you should dance again. You shouldn't quit something you obviously love."

I sighed, taking the shoes from him, being brought back to reality. "If only it was truly that easy," I mumbled.

I placed the shoes back where they belonged on top of the dresser, and turned towards Jack. "Have you ever had to change, because you knew it was the right thing to do, because it would be better for others?" Jack was deep in thought. He was circumspect about telling me something, that I was positive.

He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the sound of the front door swinging open and banging against the wall.

"What's that?" Jack asked coming up behind me. I placed my hand up to his lips, silencing him.

"Amber?" A voice called out. My dad. His voice sounded weak and clouded, as if he wasn't entirely sure of himself.

I made my way out of my room, Jack slowly following. The fridge door opened and closed, and the sound of a can opening penetrated the air.

My dad sat at the kitchen table, hands shaking around the bud light can, as it had been last time I'd seen him. His hair was paler now, and his face showing signs of age.

"Dad?" I asked in a low voice. His eyes looked sad as he saw me before him.

"Where have you been?" he asked, raising the can to his lips. The smell of alcohol was intoxicating.

"Out, not far." I respond, inching closer.

"Its not safe to be out so late by yourself, There are lunatics out there," dad informed, rising from his chair, making his way over to me.

"I know, I'm very careful." I said, stepping back to make room for him.

Dad sighed. "I know, but you always say that, Alana, and look where it got you." I froze. _Alana_. My mothers name. He thinks I'm her.

"Dad?" I ask, moving backwards.

Through his drunken fog, my dad's vision seems to clear, noticing me as Amber.

"Amber" he screeched, coming towards me, beer can still in his hand. "Where the hell were you? Are you a runaway now? I should call the police on you. I should-" he continued his idle threats, hands shaking. He was spilling the beer down his front side and the floor. He kept advancing toward me as I backed up against the side wall.

"You're not welcome here, Amber. You left. Everyone is gone, because of you. You might as well leave too, you insubordinate piece of trash." His breath was hot and sticky and the fumes made me dizzy.

"Dad, I'm sorry. It wasn't my fault-" I shouldn't have said anything, because my apologizing only made matters worse. He slapped me clear across my face, causing me to collapse onto the ground. My eyes watered and my jaw stung as blood filled my mouth.

"How the hell is it not your fault? They were going to _your_ showcase, to see _you_ perform, with _your_ boyfriend." He knelt down beside me, beer sloshing in the can. "You are a selfish bitch if you think that it's not your fault. Alana and Aiden died because you were selfish and just had to have them there." He spat in my face in anger. "You killed them Amber."

Hot tears boiled in my eyes until they flowed down my cheeks in a river of salty water. My dad didn't seem to notice, or if he did, he didn't care.

"My family is torn apart, and it's your entire fault!" He raised his hand again, and I closed my eyes to prepare myself for another blow, but it never came.

I opened my eyes to see Jack standing over top my dad, pinning him down.

"Amber, let's go," Jack called over my dad's ululating insults and threats.

"This your new boyfriend Amber? Where did you get this one, the criminals in training program?" He continued to throw hurtful words that I tried to block out. Slut and whore were the most basic in his vocabulary.

'Amber!" Jack called, getting my attention. He motioned towards the door with his head, while keeping my dad down. I ran for it and threw it open, letting it hit the wall behind it. Jack let my dad go and ran after me, shutting it behind him.

We ran down the street to make sure my dad wasn't following us. I stopped beside a bench, and sat down. The tears flowed faster now accompanied by hoarse sobs. Jack sat down next to me, and wrapped a protective arm around me. I didn't want his pity, but I enjoyed his comfort. He rubbed my back and whispered sweet words that I didn't hear.

When no more tears would come and my throat burned, I sat up and wiped my face with the sleeve of my jacket. Jack gently wiped away a single tear that had lingered. His eyes absorbed every aspect of my face, resting on my jaw. I knew what he would see. A red mark, with the outline of fingers painted on my skin.

Jack had enough common sense to know I wouldn't want to talk about the events that had just occurred. Though it hurt to move my jaw, I managed to get out, "Please don't tell them. Please," knowing that Jack would understand that the "them" I was referring to were at the apartment, probably angry that we have been gone so long.

Jack's body shook with anger and he was about to protest, but looked at me, and his dark eyes softened. "Alright, I promise I won't." I smiled weakly at him. "We should get back" he muttered, and I nodded.

He helped me off the bench and we began to walk back to the terminal to catch the ferry, without saying another word.

* * *

Thoughts? Comments? I want to know what's on y'all's minds.


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